Russians in new york
by The Muse of Insanity
Summary: If the Blitzkreig Boys visited America, a country where everyone hates them, and to be honest, they don't really care.
1. Chapter 1

_Everyone gets bad luck once in a while. This poor guy had really bad luck all day. Enjoy!_

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><p>This was the perfect idea. Quick money, low risk, and very easy. A celebrity from Russia, probably with loads of money on him, walking down the street. None of his friends in sight, perfect opportunity. The mugger grabbed the teenager, and pulled him into the alleyway.<p>

"Give me your money now!"

The lilac haired boy smiled. Several shrieks were heard from the alley, and then Bryan walked out with a new coat and boots.

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><p>Okay, second try. This one might be big, but he can't be fast, and he's meant to be the nicest of all of them. If I surprise him fast, he doesn't stand a chance. This can't go wrong. He lept out, and pushed the huge teen against a wall.<br>"MONEY now!" The blonde looked down at him, then shrugged. When the police arrived from an anonymous tip off, that a celebrity was being mugged, they found the mugger trapped inside one of the huge bins, with three paving slabs pinning it down. They let him go, since he hadn't broken the law really.

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><p>This one should be easy, he's my height, and they all say he is the leader, but he's only powerful in the arena. He's not a maniac, and he doesn't look that muscular. I can take him. I can take him. The mugger yanked the boy towards him and thrust his fist underneath the teens chin.<p>

"Just give me the money, and you won't get hurt!"

Tala grinned, and reached for Wolborg.

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><p>The mugger felt like taking up needlepoint. It had taken the hospital three hours to defrost him, and he was exhausted. He began to walk home when he saw a short guy, laden with bags, walk into an alley. It was to good to miss. As he approached, the kid turned to look at him.<p>

"This is why I hate America. All of you are so stupid!" The boy sighed.

Ian came back late. When Tala asked where he had been, Ian responded by throwing a large amount of spare parts and a wallet on the table. Tala looked at the photo and recognised the man he had frozen earlier. He had been going easy, he realised. He should still be an icicle.

"Wow. I suppose the line here is, When Soviets visit America, Victim mugs you."

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><p><em>So Ian mugs a mugger. I feel sorry for the poor guy. He had Bryan as his first victim. I know the last joke doesn't work well, but would someone mug the BlitzBoys on their home turf? This is why you never mug celebrities who are Beybladers. Please review!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_Hello, and welcome to Russians in New York! And today our fic comes from the fine scene of a American truckers diner._

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><p>Tala glared down at the table, determined not to look foolish in front of everyone. Bryan did exactly the same thing, for precisely the same reasons. Spencer was trying not to laugh, and Ian wasn't paying attention, since he had just managed to get into the CIA mainframe, and was reassigning all of their agents to track Boris. Despite the fact that he loved irritating intelligence services and Boris especially, Tala was more interested in the plate in front of him. It still had a huge piece of steak on it. Bryan's plate had a similar steak on it, and both were the size of a world class Beydish.<p>

"On three." one of the other customers said, delighting in the chance to be an anouncer for once.

"One"

"Two"

"THREE"

Bryan groaned, and began to eat.

Half an hour later, Ian looked up from deleting his Interpol file, and saw that Tala had eaten half of his steak. Bryan was two thirds of the way through his, but was slowing down. Ian decided to give his captain some rare support.

"Some might say it is half full, but you could say it was half empty."

Tala scowled, and began to eat faster.

Bryan looked sorrowfully down at his final piece of horrible, horrible steak. He didn't want to eat it. This was worse than one of Ian's "surprises" which normally involved a large amount of snow, some intricate piping and a person having a bath. He gazed blearily across the table at Tala, who was lifting the final mouthful towards his face. Bryan hung his head in shame, then saw his final mouthful only a centimetre away. He lunged, and swallowed the meat, at the same time as Tala. Then, they both passed out on the floor. The manager came over, and shook Spencer by the hand.

"Well done. Now for a free meal, your table only has two more courses to go."

Spencer looked at the two sociopaths on the floor. He looked at Ian who signaled frantically that they should run. He looked at the three foot high stack of waffles coming through the door of the kitchen.

"They're paying." he yelped, and followed Ian out of the door.

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><p><em>And so, as the Beyblade of time unleashes the move of destiny...and the Bitbeast of knowledge doesn't come out due to a strop, I notice its the end of the fic. Please review. (Nb I do not mean to offend any Americans who read this so please take it with some British humour, and laugh at yourselves.)<em>


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